


Bittersweet

by enenre



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Sweet, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 11:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9656183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enenre/pseuds/enenre
Summary: Short-fic. Harry somehow ends up in the MWPP era and is sorted into Gryffindor with them. Marauders don't know who he really is. A glimpse into his interactions with them, and with Sirius in particular.





	

**Author's Note:**

> From Sirius Black's perspective.

Harry’s cheeks had turned pink when he was introduced to them. He was nervous and agitated—and he had kept looking up at him shyly; sneaking glances when he thought he wasn’t looking. 

But he  _did_  notice. But he didn’t know what to do about it, so he pretended not to.

***

When Lily began scolding James loudly in the Common Room for hexing the Hufflepuff first years to speak in squeaks, Harry had looked amused—but he had also looked terribly, terribly sad. 

And that had made him angry.

He had also been angry when Harry had lent Peter his quill when Peter had forgotten his.

He had been seething when Harry had gotten into a quiet discussion with Remus about the Patronus Charm, something that Remus had always had trouble with.

But he had been truly livid when Remus cast it the next day.

***

When he snubbed him, Harry had been crushed.

The second time, there had been tears in his eyes, and he pretended not to see them.

By the sixth time, however, there was only the steely glint of determination left, but the others had noticed the rebuffs by then.

James hadn’t wanted to get involved. He had patted him on the back and said, “Careful there, Siri,” while shaking his head. Peter merely scurried after him, but not before turning back and giving him a reproving look.

Remus had pulled him to the side and whispered angrily that he was not to be a tetchy, jealous prat and ended the tirade with a smack to his head.

***

He wasn’t stupid though. He was painfully aware that Harry pined for his attention.

Whenever he entered a room, Harry’s eyes would be drawn like magnets to him. He would always stare at him when he spoke, looking as though he was trying to soak up every single word that came from his mouth.

It needn’t be said that he was very, very creeped out. 

With the, almost, unwavering attention on him, all feelings of jealousy had fled. 

Instead, a crushing pressure had been placed on his back. Piercing green eyes watched his every move, and he felt like he was  _constantly_ being  _judged!_

It was very unlike him. Normally, he would have preened under the hero-worship, but there was something off this time. Something that put him on the edge and made him hate the attention.

He hated it, and glared at Harry whenever he caught the other boy staring. The poor thing looked terribly confused with the mixed signals that he was sending; resentment, grudging acceptance then anger. He didn’t care, though.

***

“What do you  _want_ with me?” he finally grit out, after cornering Harry in an empty classroom.

“Stop it!” he snapped at the bewildered look he was receiving.

Then Harry narrowed his eyes, finally displaying something other than puppy-dog loyalty toward him.

“Why do you hate me so much?” It came out in a whisper and he looked downcast. Suddenly, everything was a lot more awkward. The silence stretched on.

“I don’t hate you,” he finally sighed, quietly as well.

He felt as though he should elaborate on his words, explain what he had been feeling since Harry’s arrival, and allay fears, but Harry had seemed satisfied, he no longer frowned, and so, he’d left it at that.

***

Even still, it seemed that it had  _not_  been enough.

Merely confessing that he didn’t  _hate_  Harry wasn’t enough, apparently.

James was terribly amused by it all. He called Harry ‘Padfoot’s little pup’ when it was just the Marauders, and it annoyed the hell out of him.

He had seen longing gazes being directed toward James as well, but more often than not caught them fixed on himself, so he had no choice but to stew as James came up with weird scenarios and silly explanations.

“Just accept that you have a not-so-secret-admirer and move on, Paddy!” he’d said, thumping his back for good measure.

He had rolled his eyes at that, yet alone behind his curtains he wondered if there was a grain of truth in that statement.

***

“Wha—you—what— _feel—_ me—NO!” had been the terribly flustered, terribly embarrassed and irate reply when he cornered Harry once again, during a Hogsmeade weekend, behind the Hog’s Head, and, swallowing his mortification, asked if Harry held certain  _feelings_  toward him.

Brimming with embarrassment, Harry seemed to be on the verge of confessing  _something_ , however; why he looked up to him so much, perhaps.

Yet he thought twice and seemed to decide against it, adopting a slightly affronted look.

When he was finally convinced, after a staring match, that Harry would not be spilling anything at that moment, he sighed, disgruntled, and left to find James and the others, cursing Prongs in his mind.

***

There were several times, after that incident, when Harry looked like he was going to blurt out whatever it was that he was holding back. However, each time, when he caught Sirius’ expectant look, he withdrew.

Harry seemed to be getting fed up with the situation, however, and so was he. He wanted to take hold of his shoulders and shake some sense into him.

_What_  are you hiding? He wanted to scream at the boy.

***

“I’ve been really happy here, Sirius,” he’d said. He was the only one among the lot who called him Sirius. He was Paddy, Pads or Siri to the Marauders and Black to Lily. Pfft, Lily. Now  _she_  had to be included.

He had instantly felt guilt churning in his stomach upon hearing that declaration. 

_No thanks to me_ , he thought.

“It’s really peaceful here, and everyone’s really kind.”

He sat on the glaring red couch, in the Common Room, hugging his knees and smiling lazily.

Remus, who had been sitting on the opposite couch, reading through his Potions textbook, looked at Harry as if he had grown two heads before shooting an accusatory glance at him.

He glared back.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Was the ending too abrupt? It started out as slash...and then I don't know what happened.


End file.
